


Almost Human

by vince_noir



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Sharks, Sherlolly - Freeform, past Johnlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1271278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vince_noir/pseuds/vince_noir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper's relationship was a sham, and its inevitable ending leaves her homeless and alone. In her time of need, a surprising face offers her help: Sherlock Holmes. He's abrupt, rude, frustrating, logical, and without comparison. In their time together, Molly becomes privy to a side of Sherlock previously only known to a select few. Bafflingly, it seems the great Sherlock Holmes is almost human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shark Attack

Molly Hooper flopped onto the couch with a lifeless sigh. She was trying to keep back the sobs. She couldn't believe she had been so blind. _Of course it was never going to work with Tom,_ her brain howled at her. Despite the curls and the cheekbones, hell, even _the scarf,_ he was no Sherlock Holmes. That was crystal clear. What was less clear, was why she was in Sherlock's flat trying not to burst into tears. Sherlock was sitting next to her awkwardly. 

There were no words spoken, but it was kind of comforting to know she didn't have to explain herself. Sherlock would know. He observed better than he listened anyway. The thought made her giggle. "Molly?" His velvety voice sounded concerned.

"I'm okay. Well, I'm not okay. But I'm not mad either," she said, sounding completely mad.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The gesture was warmer than Molly expected. "Do you want tea?" he offered. He bit his lip, and Molly realised he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. She felt a pang of guilt about imposing her problems on him.

"No, thank you. This? This is nice enough."

To her surprise, he pulled her closer and rested his head on hers. He began to hum quietly. It sounded like a classical piece, but she didn't know enough about classical musical to name it. Before she knew it, she had drifted off.

\---

"Would you like some tea, dear?" 

Molly woke up with a start. "Oh, no. I mean, yes. Yes, please, Mrs Hudson." She looked around. She was on Sherlock's couch with a blanket and a pillow. She wondered if Sherlock did things like this for John. When Mrs Hudson returned with the tea, Molly thanked her and asked where Sherlock was.

"He's off on a case. Something about the aquarium. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when he comes back." Molly nodded. Her mind had wandered to other places already. Things like how she was going to get her stuff from Tom's flat. Why had she been so stupid as to move in so soon? It had seemed like true love at the time, so why would she have waited? Now it left a bitter taste of regret in her mouth. 

_Toby!_ She felt panic uncoil in her stomach. She was pretty much homeless, what was she going to do about her cat? The thought of letting Tom keep him made her feel sick. Toby had been with her through all the toughest moments of her life. Medical school, the break up with Jim, when Sherlock had faked her death and she had to keep it a secret from even John, when her mother died. Toby had been by her side through everything.

As these thoughts rushed through her head, she felt something furry brush against her legs. She almost dropped her tea. Looking down, she saw Toby. "How did you get here?" she cooed.

"Sherlock picked him up this morning. He wanted me to tell you that you're welcome to stay until you find your own place. You can have John's old room," Mrs Hudson explained. Her face softened, "I'm sorry, dear."

Molly shook her head, "It's okay. I'm feeling better." 

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything." Molly nodded. 

She crossed the room, and picked a random book off the shelf - _Blood Dynamics_ by Anita Wonder. She headed back to the couch, and began to read about bloodstain pattern analysis. Toby curled on her lap, and she settled in.

By the time Sherlock got home, she had finished _Blood Dynamics_ and started in on William R. Maples' _Dead Men Do Tell Tales: Strange and Fascinating Cases of a Forensic Anthropologist._ "Were you bored?" 

"No, actually. I kept pretty entertained. You've got a good selection of books," Molly smiled. "I think it did me good to immerse myself in something that doesn't have a romantic subplot."

Sherlock nodded. "I'm glad you've settled in."

Molly blushed, "Oh, yes, um, thank you for letting me stay here." She didn't realise how quickly she felt at home here. Even amongst the lab equipment that dominated the kitchen, the skull on the mantle, and the various other decidedly unhomey experiments around the flat.

"It's no problem. You can have John's old room." Sherlock smiled bittersweetly, "He won't need it, with Mary and the baby and all. It's upstairs. Tom had your stuff packed up when I went to get the cat, so it's all in the room for you. Best you go through it and make sure you have everything." Molly stared wide-eyed at Sherlock. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just not used to seeing you be so kind."

Sherlock looked taken aback. "It just makes sense. You can't have my room. It'd be ridiculous for me to move all my stuff upstairs."

Molly wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. "Y-yes, of course. It's the only logical solution. What was your case about today?" 

"The shark's missing."

"Pardon?"

"The shark was in its tank. Now it isn't." He crouched in his favourite chair, his hands clasped under his chin as if he were praying.

"And you have to figure out why?"

"Precisely. It's not exactly easy to transport or hide a shark."

"Why would anyone want a shark?"

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively, "There's always a market for exotic pets."

"Do you think it was an inside job?"

"Almost definitely. The security footage was tampered with, so there's no evidence of who took it. I originally thought the security guard had been paid off, but he was found dead in his office."

"Oh." Molly frowned. Sherlock talked about the dead so callously. "Are there any unused tanks? Like somewhere they would store a shark or something while the tanks were being cleaned?"

"They leave the sharks in when the tanks are cleaned, Molly."

"O-oh, that sounds like a terrible job."

Sherlock chuckled, suddenly. "You cut up dead bodies for a living. Most people think what you do is terrible."

Molly laughed, "I guess it's all about perspective."

"I need to think this over," Sherlock said, standing up. He was all business again. He looked like he was about to go to his room.

"You can stay here! I'll go upstairs and go through my stuff."

Sherlock nodded, and she hurried away, taking Toby with her. From the bedroom, she could hear Sherlock playing the violin. It was the same tune that he had hummed the night before. 

\---

The next day, Sherlock woke her up. "Do you want to come with me on a case? John has to stay at the surgery, some emergency or something, and... And you were very helpful last time." The last bit soounded like he was trying to sweet talk her, more than a genuine compliment.

Groggy, Molly sat up. "Isn't it rude not to knock?"

"Isn't it rude to ignore an invitation?"

"Let me at least brush my teeth," she sighed, getting out of bed.

Sherlock all but threw her out of bed and into the cab. Molly asked where they were going as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. "The aquarium. The shark is back. I'm going to dive in and examine the tank." Molly frowned. 

"With the shark inside?"

"Yes, Molly, the shark is inside." Sherlock sounded exasperated. "That would be clear from the part where I mentioned the shark is back."

"Why do you need to examine the tank?"

"I'm going to find out why the shark disappeared."

"Why am I coming?"

Sherlock smirked, "Moral support."

At the aquarium, Sherlock suited up in a diving suit, and Molly blushed. She didn't know why she was there - hell, she didn't even know why Sherlock was there - but she definitely appreciated the invitation now. "Good luck," she whispered as he dove in.

For precious moments, it was peaceful. Then the shark noticed Sherlock, and it decided he was lunch. It swam directly at him, baring its teeth. Molly felt her knees go weak, but she couldn't look away. Sherlock swam out of the way, trying to evade the shark and make it out of the water as quickly as possible. He kicked the shark, trying to gain an advantage whenever it came to close. The shark was faster, swimming above him, and trying to sink his teeth into him. Senselessly, Sherlock pounded his fists against the shark, as it managed to sink its teeth into Sherlock's leg. The shark seemed unaware of his efforts to fight back. It seemed like an eternity before the aquarium officials were able to sedate it. 

Sherlock broke the water, and Molly rushed to help him out. She wrapped turned his scarf into a tourniquet and kept pressure on the wound until the ambulance arrived. She rode  
with him to the hospital. She held his hand the entire ride, silently praying through tears to any deity that might listen to her. Before they arrived at the hospital, she pressed her lips to his forehead. "Please be okay."

He needed stitches, and got a good reprimanding from John when he came to, but overall he was okay. "It's a typical attack from a great white, John. They're known to attack once and then attack again when their prey exhausts themselve swimming to the surface. I knew the staff would tranquilise him in time for me to get out. Who are those flowers from?" Sherlock interrupted, pointing to a bouquet of Blue-eyed Grass Flowers. "The carnations are from you and Mary, obviously, and Molly brought in the orchids. Mycroft wouldn't send flowers."

John got up and read the card. His face paled as he handed it to Sherlock. When Sherlock read it, a smug smile crossed his face. "What does it say?" Molly asked, worried by their differing reactions. Sherlock handed it to her.

_My pets don't play nice either. Get well soon. xoxo Jim_


	2. Molly's Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become tense between John and Sherlock, and Molly has a couple of visitors during her night shifts in the morgue.

"It was pretty simple, actually. I dove into the tank, nicked myself on the coral, so the shark would get the scent of my blood, and-"

"You did _what_?" John's face turned red. 

"Calm down, John. I'm still alive," Sherlock said, dismissively. "I knew it was a trap right away. Aquariums don't usually carry great white sharks, so that was the first tip that something was wrong. The biologist I spoke with said it had been injured, and was only staying there until it healed up. They were supposed to release it a week from that day. So I played into the trap, and forced Moriarty to reveal himself. It was quite simple, really."

It was at this point that Molly stood up from the chair she was sat in. "Sherlock Holmes, if you ever do something at wreckless again, I will throttle your dead body when it comes into my morgue." John and Sherlock stared at her, shocked. She collected herself. "Don't scare me like that."

Sherlock sighed, "I guess there was room for error." 

"You're damn right, there was room for error!" John was yelling again.

Molly slipped back into her chair, and pretended to read something on her phone while they fought.

"I was unaware that it would matter so much to you. With your career and family, I figured you were otherwise preoccupied," Sherlock sneered.

"The career and family I found because you were _otherwise preoccupied_ with being dead? You can't throw that in my face, Sherlock. I'm not happy being alone, not like you." John stormed out of the room. 

Molly looked up, and saw something akin to heartbreak on Sherlock's features. She had assumed that there was more to those two than just flatmates, but... She didn't want to dwell on it. It wasn't her business. "I'll, um, get some coffee." 

When she came back, Sherlock had composed himself again. "Black, two sugars," she chimed, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt.

"Ah, thank you, Molly. I'm sorry for John's outburst earlier."

"No, I'm sorry for eavesdropping-"

"That was hardly eavesdropping."

"Um. Well, I guess you two have some history. Did you not tell him about the sniper?"

Sherlock shook his head. "There's nothing to be gained from telling him why I had to jump. Knowing I did it to save him won't make him any less hurt."

"That's an understanding of human emotions I've never seen in you before."

Sherlock glared at her before taking a sip of coffee. He pulled a face. "This is the worst coffee I have ever drinken."

"Wait until you try the food."

\---

Molly sat in her bed, wearing shorts and a worn tee shirt, drinking tea and playing online when she heard John come in. They were fighting again. She put in headphones, and cranked up her music, but she couldn't drown them out. 

"You get mad at me for having a family, and what are you doing? You've moved Molly into my room, you proposed to Jeanine before you even knew her-"

"That was different, I needed her to let me in to Magnussen's office."

"So what do you need Molly for?"

"She needs a place to stay. I need a flatmate. It's as simple as that. I've known her for years. Longer than I've known you, I might add."

"So I'm being downgraded to a nobody now?"

"Are you implying I'm a nobody? Because we're on the same level now?" Molly asked, having made her way downstairs in search of more tea.

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant," John became flustered. "Molly, this isn't-"

Sherlock interrupted. "He's jealous. He thinks I moved on too fast, while he's moved on so far past me, he has a family. It's not your fault. He's being petty." He spoke in a deliberately casual way. The pleasure on his face when John got angry was clear.

"It's nothing to do with Molly. It's everything to do with how since I started this family, you've been painting yourself a victim, as if our friendship can't continue without me being unmarried."

"Our working relationship can't continue. You have people that need you now. You can't run off fighting bad guys when you have a baby."

"So police officers can never have children?" John countered.

Sherlock growled in frustration. "I'm trying to protect you!"

"I don't _need_ your protection!"

Molly sighed and went to refill her tea. She wished they had waited until she was at work to do this. "You guys remember that Moriarty is out there, plotting something, which we know is never good, right? Maybe you should spend less time fighting over daft stuff like this, and more time trying to figure out what he's up to, yeah?"

\---

Molly liked working night shifts. It was usually quiet, so she could play the radio and do her paperwork. If there was a body to examine, she was able to be thorough and unrushed in her work. She could sing along to embarrassing pop songs, and nobody was around to judge her for it. After the afternoon's dramatics, she was looking forward to the peace.

So when she turned on the lights in the lab, she was surprised to find she wasn't alone. "Good evening, Molly. Miss me?"

"Oh my god."

"Most people would call me the devil, but I quite like the idea of being a God," Jim laughed. "I'm just guessing here, but are you the one that examined our dear friend, Sherlock's body? You must have noticed something was wrong with it. Like, for example, _it wasn't his body?_ "

Molly's mind raced. She didn't have anything she could fight him with, and she wasn't sure he wouldn't overpower her anyway. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she struggled to think clearly."Y-yes, it was me. But if there was something that would give away the body, I was too upset to tell."

"And how is it, that you were able to examine the body, when that would have been a clear conflict of interest?"

"Jim, I didn't help him, if that's what you're implying. Mycroft must've asked for me to do it for some reason." Molly's nerves steadied. Her mind struggled to accept that she was probably going to die now, unless she talked Jim out of it. "I'm more interested in how you survived. Even Sherlock was convinced you were dead. That must have been quite the performance."

"You're trying to flatter me," Jim smiled menancingly. "I have missed you, Molly. I've missed you so badly." He moved towards her, and she began to tremble. "I like being flattered. Tell Sherlock I say hi." He sang the last bit, as he opened the lab door to leave as casually as if they had just had a friendly chat.

It took a few moments for her to compose herself, but eventually she was able to turn the radio on, and get to work. More than before, she needed a quiet evening immersed in work. The work kept her calm and focussed.

\---

"Moriarty visited you last night, and you worked the whole night without mentioning it?" Sherlock demanded. "Why didn't you call the police? Or better yet, me?"

"I wasn't exactly thinking clearly!"

Sherlock grabbed Molly by the shoulders. "You have to think clearly. There's too much at risk if you don't."

"I'm sorry. I was just freaked out, and to be honest, I was amazed to even be alive. I didn't think he'd just leave the way he did." Sherlock's hands left her shoulders, and he pulled her into a hug. 

"I'm sorry. It's my fault he targeted you. The same way he targeted John. The way he targeted all those people. It's been to get to me." Molly could feel Sherlock's heart beating faster. She hugged him back, and wrapped her fingers into his curls.

"It's not your fault. You don't do what you do for the attention. He's mad. He'd hurt people with or without you." She felt like she was holding a fragile doll. She wondered when she had become privy to Sherlock's fears. 

He pulled away far enough to look in her eyes. He smiled softly before pressing his lips to hers. It was gentle and innocent. Molly flushed. "You're right. I know that. It's just reassuring to hear it from someone else."

Molly couldn't bite her tongue. "Did John reassure you like this?"

"Stop comparing yourself to John. I need you to be you, and I need John to be John."

Molly let that sink in for a moment. "Have you been intentionally riling John up? Why?"

"I needed to know if he was still invested in helping me. I can't have a partner preoccupied with family problems when there's a case to be solved."

"It doesn't have to be one or another, Sherlock. You can have a demanding job _and_ a family. That's a surprisingly old fashioned notion," she laughed. "You seem to be the one being petty."

"I'm not being old fashioned or petty. I just want John focussed on staying alive more than what his daughter will do when he's dead. And I happen to really like Mary," Sherlock added, cocking his head, "despite her shooting me." 

\---

The next night, Molly had another, more welcome, guest. John came in about an hour after her shift started. She greeted him warmly.  
"Okay, I came by because I just wanted you to know that I'm not angry with you, or hung up on Sherlock. He just says really frustrating things sometimes, and I don't always say the kindest things in those moments," he blurted out, and Molly wondered if he had rehearsed the apology in the cab ride over.

"It's okay John. You guys have a complicated relat- friendship. I know you're still hurt about him faking his death, but I think he's really hurt too. It was only a year, and I know he didn't expect you to have found someone else so quickly. You both hurt each other. And after you got married, you didn't talk to him for a _month_. He ended up in a _drug den_." Molly felt like she was overstepping her boundaries, but John didn't stop her. "He's hurt too. You guys have to sort it out."

"Thanks. I know I must have come off as a real cock the other day, but I'm glad he has you there. He sinks too far into his mind on his own - he needs the company." John thought a moment, "Be warned though, being in Sherlock's company gets incredibly trying at times."

"I've noticed. It's kind of worth it though, don't you think?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a request from a friend (Hi Jorge!), who wanted a fic with shark wrestling. I was originally going to write something silly, but I got an idea for Jim to be masterminding a return to London, and ran with that, using the original idea of "MUST FIGHT SHARK" as the starting point, but I didn't feel like I could do the story in a oneshot, so this is now a story with an indefinite amount of chapters. :D


End file.
